They Shock Cats, Don’t They

The Friday Fictioneers. It is more than a collection of eclectic wordsmiths hailing from all regions of this great big world. There are mothers, fathers, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, aunts, uncles and cousins. Namely people of every age and nationality who love to use a simple singular photo as the starting point for a quick 100 word journey.

Obviously you have some attraction to writing since you are here. Fiction too, or you would not know about FF. So what is your desire as you circle through the bevvy of writing beauties offered this week? You can find a variety of stories to satiate your wishes. What follows is my attempt.

Copyright – Ted Strutz

 

The group of people worked their way through the collection of unusual devices, stopping briefly to read the short blurbs on the plaques accompanying each display. One man began to shake his head as soon as he read one of the plaques.

“There is no way! This is not true.”

Underneath a nondescript device was the name “Oppenheimer.”

“You don’t seriously expect us to believe the father of the Atomic bomb created this!”

The tour guide moved beside the man and nodded in agreement.

“No sir, that belonged to Stanley his brother.”

“What did it do?”

“Shock cats!”

“Seriously?”

“No.”

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Chasing Caitlin – Sunday Photo Fiction – 1/25/15

Sunday Photo Fiction I have missed you. Getting a fresh inspiration every Sunday morning in the form of a photo launches a great adventure of 200 or so words.

I don’t know if any of you remember an actress by the name of Caitlin O’Heaney. She was popular in the 1980s and was on Tales of the Gold Monkey and The Charmings. She is the inspiration for the female character.

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Copyright – A Mixed Bag 2015

“What was the name of that stinking bookstore?” Jon wondered aloud. This would be the tenth he found in this sprawling English metropolis. The Irish beauty had mesmerized him so he could not remember the most important of details. He remembered her name, Caitlin or Cait, her figure, the city she hailed from, but not the most important. Where did she say she worked?

He knew his boss’ patience was not endless. The trip to Great Britain would either make or break him as an account manager for the international clients. But so would his hunt for this beguiling beauty he knew was the love of his life. He could hear his heart thundering when he caught a brief glimpse of some bright red hair through the window.

“Caitlin!” he shouted from the street.

Inside the store the person didn’t respond, but he was sure it was her. He burst through the door and shouted her name again. Half a dozen patrons turned quickly, but none looked like his query. Dejected he trudged back out the door. He walked another thirty feet and settled on a bench, feeling drained of all hope.

“Well, of all places to find a handsome American,” an angelic voice cooed.

Jon shielded his eyes as he turned into the full sun to see Caitlin’s silhouette.

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You can follow this blue guy and visit the others brave enough to try the Sunday Photo Fiction for this week.

We’re going to need a bigger bottle!

The Friday Fictioneers. It is more than a collection of eclectic wordsmiths hailing from all regions of this great big world. There are mothers, fathers, sons and adughters, brothers and sistrers, aunts, uncles and cousins. Namely people of every age and nationality who love to use a simple singular photo as the startin gpoint for a quick 100 word journey.

Obviously you have some attraction to writing since you are here. Fiction too, or you would not know about FF. So what is your desire as you circle through the bevvy of writing beuaties offered this week? You can find a variety of stories to satiate your wishes. What follows is my attempt.

Copyright – Georgia Koch

 

Ted stood mouth agape at Humbert’s words. His mentally limited friend asked him to help him put a ship in a bottle, one of his favorite hobbies. Ted loved to spend time with Humbert, always had. But . . .

“I called you because you’re my smartest friend,” Humbert said.

“Humbert you do realize you put the ship together in the bottle?”

“Well, how’re we going to do that?” Humbert said.

Ted sighed heavily and his head dropped slowly until his chin was on his chest.

“We need a bigger bottle!” Humbert said with his index finger pointing straight up.

 

The Ship! The Ship! – Sunday Photo Fiction – 1/11/15

Sunday Photo Fiction I have missed you. Getting a fresh inspiration every Sunday morning in the form of a photo launches a great adventure of 200 or so words. I got a tad wordy this time, but I think you will agree the last words give the story a much unexpected twist. Yes, this is 168 hours later than the prompt, but the plot has so much potential I just had to put it out.

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It had been 435 days. More than a year since he had seen Delilah. The well worn photo did not even look like her anymore. His fingers had worn the image from his longing caresses. How his arms ached for her soft, wonderful essence. Colony building was no task for a man in love. To be away from the one who held his heart was worse than the fear of savage attack or starvation. The neglect to his heart weighed so much heavier. How could he ever recoup so many lost days?

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She paced the deck. Was he still alive. There had been no news for more than a year. This experiement as the king framed it was supposed to bring great riches to the empire. Wealth and fame was how he sold it to his subjects, something necessary to maintain their status in the world. Delilah did not care about the world. She wanted her Phillip back, the world could go fly it’s kite. This kind of sailing ship was no place for a lady, but she wanted her love back more than she cared about her dignity.

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The captain felt no remorse deceiving the beauty. Landing at an empty island would finally erase her lingering hope, then he could have her for his wife.

Oh What A View? Wait, What?

The Friday Fictioneers. It is more than a collection of eclectic wordsmiths hailing from all regions of this great big world. There are mothers, fathers, sons and adughters, brothers and sistrers, aunts, uncles and cousins. Namely people of every make and model who love to use a simple singular photo as the startin gpoint for a quick 100 word journey.

Obviously you have some attraction to writing since you are here. Fiction too, or you would not know about FF. So what is your desire as you circle through the bevvy of writing beuaties offered this week? You can find a variety of stories to satiate your wishes. What follows is my attempt.

Copyright – Jan Wayne Fields

A wonderful life is what she promised, an exciting life full of adventure and excitement. But what topped it all was the promise of a room with a view. I mean we were living in New York City of all places; the land of skyscrapers.

“I know it is not exactly what I described,” she said softly.

“Compared to four years of sand, scorpions and unbearable heat I guess I shouldn’t complain.”

“You know what,” she said straightening, “You fought for freedom, justice and the American way over there. We can do better.”

“Better. The room with a view? Yes.”

NYC Midnight – 9th Annual Fiction Challenge

Okay so everyone enjoys a challenge, right. I mean the word challenge ignites a thought pattern that you will have to summon your deepest skills to succeed at whatever comes after the word challenge. For a writer a challenge can simply be trying to put together a credible plot that can be developed into a full fledged story.

I just got this information about a short stroy challenge coming the end of this week that might be interesting to my fellow fiction wirters. It is hosted by NYC Midnight. The 9th Annual Short Story Challenge is a creative writing competition open to writers around the world. There are 3 rounds of competition. In the 1st Round (January 16-24, 2015), writers are placed randomly in heats and are assigned a genre, subject, and character assignment. Writers have 8 days to write an original story no longer than 2,500 words. The judges choose a top 5 in each heat to advance to the 2nd Round (March 12-15, 2015) where writers receive new assignments, only this time they have just 3 days to write a 2,000 word (maximum) short story. Judges choose finalists from the 2nd Round to advance to the 3rd and final round of the competition where writers are challenged to write a 1,500 word (maximum) story in just 24 hours (April 24-25, 2015). A panel of judges review the final round stories and overall winners are selected. NYC Midnight

Unfortunately since I got this notice so late the only entry deadline remaining is by January 15th, Thursday and the fee is $55. What do you get for this fee? Not only does every writer receive feedback from the judges for every story submitted, but a special review forum is available for the participants to submit their stories for review from fellow writers throughout the competition. During the Short Story Challenge 2014, there were over 3,300 comments made on the 200+ stories submitted on the forum.

Feedback is always a good thing and seeing what others write will help us all to improve.

26 -Dec -14 – Superstitious? Who Me?

For eight and a half months I have been working through a writing sabattical. Why? To sharpen my ability to whittle ideas into strong story material. Also I decided to subdivide my main blog into specific themed ones. This is the fiction centered blog, Fiction Playground.

I have missed the weekly 100 word adventure hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. It is time to dive back in the pool. So without further ado, here we go.

copyright – Bjorn Rudberg

“Julie? Jules?”

No reply came, which made Kurt cringe. Two long minutes after the scream, he feared finding his fiance. The legend was well known, even if improbable to be true. The first engaged woman to descend the steps after a blood moon would be taken. Kurt wanted to deny his superstitious nature, but right now he couldn’t summon the courage.

“JULIE!” he shouted. “JULIE!”

Again, no reply. Kurt edged forward to peer toward the bottom of the steps. No Julie.

“I GOT YOU!” Julie screamed as she grabbed Kurt’s arm.

“Dammit Julie!”

“No, you aren’t superstitious!”

“Guilty!”

“Oh Yeah!”